


Foolery

by ShippersList



Series: Ficlet Factory [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Decisions, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippersList/pseuds/ShippersList
Summary: Ereshai asked for Derek/Stiles and prompt #18. “I’m alive… I can tell because of the pain.”
Based on a tumblr prompt.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ereshai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/gifts).



Stiles wheezed and coughed. He was pretty sure his face was red and there were tears streaming from his eyes. He was slumped in a pitiful heap on the floor, gasping for breath and blindly reaching out with his hand for Derek.

”Stiles?” Derek asked. At least there was worry in his voice.

Stiles managed to grasp the leg of Derek’sjeans and held on for his dear life. “I’m alive… I can tell because of the pain,” he whispered.

Talking hurt.

Derek sighed and crouched beside him, leaning his elbows on his knees.

”You know, this was all your own fault,” he said. ”You insisted, remember?”

Stiles tried to wave away his comment but ended up faceplanting against Derek who took his weight effortlessly and raised a brow at his stubborn silence.

”Have you ever thought about how much easier your life was if you actually tried to think every now and then?” Derek asked. He sounded almost amused.

Stiles bared his teeth but didn’t snarl because that would’ve hurt too much. Deciding that his suffering earned him more cuddling, Stiles dragged himself on top of Derek.

Derek grunted at the added weight but didn’t seem otherwise affected, the traitor. He stood gracefully up and moved a couple of steps to the couch, arranging Stiles more comfortably on his lap.

”Do you want me to take some of the pain?” he asked, nuzzling the underside of Stiles’s jaw.

”Yeah,” Stiles sniffed, trying for haughty but failing spectacularly. As the familiar woozy feeling of Derek’s pain drain relaxed him, he turned his head a bit to look at the black lines snaking up Derek’s forearms.

”Better?”

Stiles didn’t deign with an answer.

Derek huffed and pecked a kiss on his temple. ”Why the hell did you do it anyway?” he asked after a moment.

”Well, Erica—”

”And you thought _that_ was going to lead to anything good?” Derek interrupted.

Stiles flailed his hands. ”Well, how was I supposed to know she was going to bring out the big guns?”

Derek raised an incredulous eyebrow. ”Really?” he asked flatly. ”You dared Erica and _didn’t_ expect the big guns?”

”They didn’t look that big,” Stiles grumbled.

”Stiles, you moron. They were Naga Morich, one of the hottest chili peppers in the world. Even I don’t want to eat them and I’m a werewolf.”


End file.
